Page 7 of Arranged to Marry the Bratva

“If this backfires, Brother,” Dima says at last, his anger subsided enough for him to choke out a few words.

“It won’t. I brought this family to where we are today, and you have to trust I’ll take it up the ranks.”

My words seem to resonate with Artyom, who finally breaks his silence. "Nikolai is right. We cannot continue fighting battles we cannot win. An alliance may be our only chance at survival."

"Thank you, Artyom," I nod gratefully, feeling grateful for his support. "Now, let's put an end to this needless bickering and celebrate what’s to come. We have a wedding to plan.”

I pick up my glass, the crystal shimmering in the candlelight. My siblings hesitantly clink their glasses against mine, the sound echoing throughout the room like a harbinger of change.

Chapter 4 - Anoushka

I stare at myself in the mirror, the reflection staring back at me almost unrecognizable. My hair, usually a wild mane of waves, is now tamed into elegant waves cascading down my back. A quarter from each side is pulled up into a small, elegant bun to support the delicate diamond floral tiara my mother wore at her wedding.

The makeup artist has worked wonders, enhancing my features with emerald green eyeliner to bring out the streaks of green amongst the blue hues, and my lips are a tempting shade of crimson. I look… beautiful.

The make-up artist comes back toward me with mascara, and I close my eyes, letting her plump my lashes. I suck in the air as she sweeps some blush over my cheeks and allow myself to get lost in my thoughts as she proceeds with general touch-ups—bronzer, highlighter on my collarbone, setting powder, the whole works.

Suddenly, a thought crosses my mind. What if I’m asleep, and all of this is a dream? Or a nightmare, more like it?

This can’t be happening. I can’t be marrying Nikolai Orlov!

What do I really know about Nikolai? He's a stranger, a powerful man with a reputation that precedes him. The stories of his ruthlessness and manipulative tactics echo in my mind, painting a terrifying picture of the man waiting for me at the end of the aisle.

In our world, arranged marriages are common. Stories rush to mind. There was that girl, Anastasia, whose husband married her and then had his mistress move in! Then there was Natalia. She was so sweet and kind. Her husband used to drug her when she misbehaved and often tortured her. Her mother had to have her rescued, and now she’s hiding away on some unknown island.

I know that with my name and my brothers being who they are, Nikolai would never dare harm me, but still… there are many ways this could all go wrong.

As I sit there pondering over the what-ifs with my heart racing in my chest, the panic begins to bubble up. I try to suppress the panic rising in my chest like a tidal wave, but it's no use. The thought of marrying Nikolai, a man I hardly know, terrifies me.

“All done!” the make-up artist squeals and claps her hands in delight. Pippa rushes over, gushing at me when she sees how I look. I open my eyes to see her excited face.

“Oh my god,” she says, pressing her hand to her chest. “You look so beautiful, Anoushka.”

I try to smile at her, but I’m sure what I offer makes me look like I’m in pain.

Pippa doesn’t notice, for her eyes are now fixed on something behind me. I hear the rustle of the fabric before I see the dress in the mirror.

"What the hell?" I shriek at the seamstress, who flinches from the unexpected outburst. "That’s not the lace I asked for on the dress!"

I swivel my chair around and stand to my feet, walking over to the sleeveless figure-hugging white silk number. The neckline, a halter that connects the upper bodice together behind my neck, was supposed to be a different pattern of lace.

I’m sure of it.

I finger the lace, panic rising to my chest, almost causing pain, shaking my head furiously.

"Anoushka?" Pippa walks over and places her soft hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Everything!" I almost cry, attempting to steady my breathing. "Was this the lace I chose? It couldn’t have been… "

“Hey, hey,” Pippa says gently, putting her hands on both my shoulders and forcing me to turn away from the dress toward her. I look up at her, holding back tears, eyelashes fluttering. She gazes deep into my eyes and tilts her head just a little, not saying a word, waiting patiently to tell her exactly what’s wrong.

What seems like a minute passes by, and then I realize there’s no point holding it in. With a shaky breath, I finally say what’s on my mind. "I… I don't know, Pippa. It's just all so overwhelming." My voice wavers, betraying the facade I've tried so hard to maintain.

"Sweetheart, it's completely normal to feel this way," Pippa says soothingly, gently rubbing my back. “I was overwhelmed, too, on my wedding day. “So was Robin, Genevieve, and almost every woman in the world who has gotten married!”

I crack a smile at the thought but have more on my mind. "Wh-what if he's cruel?" I blurt out, my voice trembling with fear. "What if he's just playing games with me?"

Pippa's hand is now warm on mine, grounding me in the moment. "Anoushka, listen to me. You are strong, and you are brave. Whatever happens, I am here for you. Not just I, your brothers would make sure no harm comes your way. Besides, while I don’t know Nikolai, I do remember that it was he who saved us from Lenny. From what I’ve observed, he doesn’t seem like a cruel man.”

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